Authors: Selma Wolfe
The
sound of footsteps made her look up to see Rick’s back just as he vanished
around the corner.
“You’ve
got your hands full with that one,” Trinity chuckled from the corner.
“So I
hear,” Hope sighed, and went over to help with the dishes.
A
branch reached out and snagged on Hope’s braid. In the dimming dusk light, she
missed it and cursed when it yanked her to a stop.
The
gardens were suddenly less pretty, she thought as she untangled her hair.
Still, she couldn’t deny that the grounds were impressive. Hope had spent the
day walking around the house in a grid, establishing a perimeter in her mind
and familiarizing herself with the lay of the land.
Surprise surprise, the grounds
were huge. Relatively plain grassy fields stretched along the length of the
driveway in front of the mansion, with just a few trees to break up the landscape.Behind
the house was where things got interesting. Immediately outside the back doors
was an Olympic-sized pool filled with temptingly clear water. And beyond that
lay the gardens.
Intricately
planned and lovingly grown bushes, trees, and flowers of every shape and color
imaginable were arranged for more than a square mile. Elegant stone pathways
wound through the gardens, around the pool, and connected several actual
terraces attached to the back of the house. Hope was pretty sure that someone had
wanted to live in fair Verona with the Montagues and Capulets. Some of the
plants looked old - she wouldn’t be surprised if Rick’s grandparents, rather
than his parents, had been the ones to plan and plant these beautiful gardens.
From a
security standpoint, of course, they were something of a disaster.
Hope
rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead and grimaced. There were a
hundred thousand places that a prospective attacker could hide out here. Not
only could they hide, they could hide a whole damn army and a Trojan army as
well. This was probably the least defensible estate in the world. Just her
luck.
The
only bright side was that the inside of the mansion was quite the opposite.
Hope pulled open the heavy back door and wandered down the halls, noting the
small windows and thick deadbolts on the heavy wooden doors. There was a lot of
space to get lost in here, and that could be an advantage with foreknowledge of
the terrain.
Hope
nodded to a red-headed maid as they passed by her, turning on lights to make up
for the swiftly fading daylight. She wondered if this was Karen, but the woman
gave her a quick smile and was gone before Hope could actually say hello.
By now
it was officially dark outside, and checking on her client seemed like a good
idea. Rick had sent her a couple nonsensical texts throughout the day that had
popped up on her screen and made the phone vibrate -
do you know the average
lifespan of a domestic pig
, and then a second later,
never mind just
googled it
.
She
hadn't replied to either one, but it didn't matter because an hour ago she'd
run into Rick outside and he'd told her that he was going to play some video
games in the rec room, which was all the way in the east wing.
The
high arch of the hall that led toward Hope's bedroom already looked inviting.
In some ways it was familiar; it reminded her of the luxurious home she'd spent
three years in and out of when she worked in Africa. The memory turned sharp
with nostalgia; Hope reminded herself not to get too comfortable. Bodyguards
didn't get to stay.
As she
rounded the corner and her door came into view, Hope pulled out her phone. She
stared dubiously at it. Both of Rick’s messages continued hovering in the
middle of the screen when she poked at the buttons.
There
were way too many buttons on this phone and they all had multiple characters on
them. And it was a touchscreen. Hope thought mournfully of the simple black
brick she'd used during her last gig. She tapped a glowing blue center button
experimentally and everything went dark.
In the
middle of her mental swearing streak, Rick's bedroom door swung open and he
walked out bare-chested.
The two
of them froze and stared at each other. Hope was too well-trained to drop her
phone, but Rick wasn't so lucky. He'd been carrying a shirt, and it fell
straight onto the floor, where he proceeded to step on it.
"Oh
for..." Rick recovered from his surprise and reached down to grab the
shirt.
Hope
wasn’t some sheltered choir girl who had never seen skin before, but her eye
was immediately drawn to Rick’s body anyway. He tended to wear clothes that fit
the shape of his body and clung tight enough to give her a good idea of his
form. She’d already gotten used to him walking around with his sleeves shoved
up his arms to bare his forearms like some Victorian striptease. But even
though Hope could approximate a reasonable idea of what he’d look like naked,
it didn’t matter. She wanted to stare at the bare skin on display; wanted to
read the small white scar on the back of his left shoulder and the exact curve
of his hips.
Rick
held up the wrinkled shirt and eyed it like he was thinking about putting it on
anyway, but there was an odd bluish shoe print right in the middle of
the fabric. Hope frowned at it. What could he have been walking in to put that
strange dust on his feet, she wondered? And what was he doing in his room at
all, when he’d told Hope he was going to be on the opposite end of the mansion?
These were delicate questions. She should probably approach them with care.
“What
were you doing in your room?” Hope asked. Tact was for people who didn’t know
what they wanted.
Rick
had already turned the broad plane of his back to Hope. He curved his neck to
shoot a glance over his shoulder at her. Owning a few beaches clearly did him
good; he was tan all over. He wasn’t heavily muscled, but his shoulders looked
developed and capable, and there was a curve indicative of strength around his
biceps.
“Couldn’t
find the game I wanted to play,” he said easily, and caught her eyes with a
smile. “Thought I’d look in my room.”
“Did
you… ” Hope trailed off as Rick slipped through the door to his bedroom and
clicked it shut behind him.
“Find
it,” she finished, alone in the empty hall.
After
just a minute the doorknob rattled and Rick came back out. He was buttoning up
a loose-fitting black shirt with one hand and used the other to pull the door
swiftly shut behind him.
“Sorry
about that, didn’t want to offend your delicate sensibilities,” he said with a
wink. He started to stride down the hall and Hope had to scramble to keep up
with him, with no idea where he was headed.
“What
were you doing all that time?” she asked. “Where’d the blue stuff on your shoes
come from? I can’t do my job properly if you don’t give me adequate
information, you know.”
Rick
flashed her a wide smile, all dark hair and sparkling eyes. “I’m sure you could
MacGyver the hell out of your job if you needed to, darling. You’re very
impressive.” He even leered a little to add to the effect. One of his hands
came up to fix strands of hair that had come loose around her face; as Hope
pulled away from his fingers she felt the heat of his touch brush by her
temple. Rick let her go without comment, but couldn’t hide the satisfied set of
his mouth. He thought he’d put her off.
Actually,
Hope found this act far less distracting than a quiet Rick Stone with gentle
eyes who watched her carefully and curiously. But it was obvious she was going
to get nothing useful out of him, not tonight. Hope tucked away her suspicions
to examine later and changed threads.
Hope
held up the tiny phone and fiddled with it for a moment. Her fingers felt too
big for the buttons and a window had opened up without her meaning to do it.
“How do I work this thing? I tried to call you, but then I angered it.” Oh no,
the window had closed and now other windows were opening.
“There’s
nothing too special on it,” Rick said, waving a hand dismissively. He peeked at
it and then glanced away, purposefully disinterested. But as convincing as the
bored rich boy act was on him, Hope was starting to doubt it. She had seen
Rick’s eyes bright with sparked interest, and heard him ask terribly perceptive
questions about things she wouldn’t expect even a friend to notice. “The usual.
Internet, calls, texting, access to all the latest scientific papers. I
subscribe to all the university papers, and internationally…”
“That’s
great,” Hope interrupted, “but where are the contacts? And I think I just
turned it off?” She stared down at the blank screen.
Rick
finally turned toward Hope and fixed her with an incredulous look. She stared
back.
He
seemed to struggle with himself for a second, but curiosity won easily, and the
next second he walked over and ducked into Hope’s space, stooping to look at
the phone from her perspective. His shoulder shoved right up against Hope’s to
fit in the crook of hers. It brought his face up close to hers, so that his
hair tickled her cheek and though their skin wasn’t actually touching anywhere,
Hope’s body felt charged. She couldn’t stop herself from turning and looking at
Rick’s tousled hair, his cheekbones, the tiny wrinkle that creased his forehead
as he frowned.
“Did
you…” Rick reached up with a finger and tapped across the screen as Hope
unthinkingly held it up for him. He shook his head, brushing his hair back and
forth across her cheek. “What did you even - oh my God, are you from the
past
?”
Hope
hmphed. “All I need is a beeper, alright? A flip phone could work.”
Rick
went very still and then twisted around to look up at her, his bright green
eyes wide and horrified. His hand kept moving on the screen, just by feel. “No,
please, you’re not saying this right now, you can’t be, Hope, you’re breaking
my heart here, babe.”
Like a
knee-jerk reaction, Hope immediately imagined having that power. She wondered
for a fraction of a second what it would be like to have someone like Rick look
at her and want her.
Rather
than dwell on it, Hope shook the images out of her head and dropped the phone
in Rick’s palm so she could move away.
“Sorry.”
Rick tilted a glance up at her, watching her back up, but didn’t say anything.
“Guess I’m just not the gadgety type.”
A smile
flitted over Rick’s lips.
“Maybe
you just don’t have the right gadgets,” he said.
Hope
frowned. “What gadgets would I want?”
Rick
tossed the phone from one hand to the other, his eyes still on her. “Are you
looking for something you want… or something you need?” His eyes never left her
face.
Hope
blinked.
“Are
we… are we still talking about phones?” she asked cautiously, and Rick laughed.
He
winked. “We’re talking about whatever you want to talk about, babe.”
This
man was going to give her a permanent headache, Hope just knew it.
The
next morning, Hope was even more tempted to sneak into Rick’s room and figure
out what was going on over there. But there was a knock - a lot of knocks
actually - on her door at 8am, and apparently breakfast with Trinity was a
thing they did now.
“Are
you going to go do more paperwork?” Hope asked. Trinity snorted, presumably at
the idea of Rick actually doing work. It seemed unlikely to her too, but Hope
wanted Rick out of her hair. If he wasn’t going to give her answers, she’d go
find them on her own.
Rick
shook his face, getting strands of dark hair in his face. He grinned at her
through the choppy curtain and Hope felt a sudden surge of fondness for his
endless good humor and enthusiasm.
She looked down at her omelet.
Bad idea, she reminded herself. She’d only known the client for a few days and
already she was getting attached? This was all different shades of not good. It
was normal, even vaguely encouraged, for bodyguards to take a personal interest
in their clients. The idea was that it would push them to work harder.But there
was no executive protection agency in the world that would encourage Hope to be
drawn in by the sharp curve of Rick’s jaw, or to wonder if his cupid’s bow lips
were as soft and talented as they looked.
“Hey.”
A round hip nudged against Hope’s shoulder and she looked at Trinity, who was
staring down in concern. “You okay? That’s a good omelet. I would know, I made
it.”
“Something’s
wrong?” Hope swung her head around to see Rick staring at her with his forehead
creased in worry. “What happened? Did I do something? Is it someone’s birthday
again?”
“Yes,
and happy birthday to me, but she didn’t know that either,” Trinity said. Both
of them continued to stare at Hope.